Dream A Little Dream
by Nyx6
Summary: Brand new part of the Lauren and Dean series. It is now officially the big wedding night, although as usual things don't go to plan for our girl thanks to a very very quirky hotel room, Abraham Lincoln and a sword fight on the roof. So I guess it's lucky she's got Dean Ambrose for company through all of the crazy, huh?
1. I Capture The Castle

**Okay, so here they are. Lauren and Dean everybody! Originally this was going to be a one shot, but it turned out really long, so now it's in two parts. Second one on Friday for you lovely people.**

**Now as you may know, I had a real struggle over the summer and I just couldn't write these two (or anything). But I'm gradually getting my mojo back and I was suddenly hit by this idea. It's basically a continuation of Dearly Beloved and also a bit of a recap. This chapter is normal but the next one is pretty wild!**

**Fingers crossed that you guys like it! Full length story starting next week!**

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**I Capture The Castle**

"_That_," I announced with a grin of elation as the elevator doors rumbled open with a ping, "Had to have been the best Smackdown _ever_. I mean, did you even see their faces? I thought Stephanie's head was going explode for sure and cover the front row in green alien brain juice."

I gestured with my hands for added emphasis.

_Kaboom_.

In front of us there was a long and very gaudy looking hallway, filled with rows of bland looking doors and a boobs and penis drawing someone had sketched on the ceiling, which was a classy addition to a _not_ so classy place.

Not that I minded.

In fact Da Vinci could have been there with a ladder and a paintbrush _Sistine Chapel-ing_ the place and I would probably have been too amped to notice since I was firing on adrenaline and newlywed bliss. Nine hours and six minutes of bliss to be specific. Because yep. It had sure been one heck of a day.

"Yeah baby girl," Roman chuckled, "I saw them, not sure anybody could have missed it back there, what with uce tossing The Miz out in the middle of his segment then announcing to the world the pair of you had gotten hitched,"

He put out a hand and ruffled Dean's hairstyle, which was frankly deserved for a whole _lot_ of things. But mostly because we had actually won for once. Our announcement had literally come out of the blue and no one backstage had known it was coming.

Not Stephanie, not Vince, not Hunter.

No one.

My Disney villain stepmother had stormed out onto the ramp afterwards to scream and bitch and generally be a McMahon, while my father had stood a few steps back looking –

Wounded? Ouch.

I bit a stab of guilt down at that then squeaked as the elevator doors pinged a second time and started to rapidly close towards my head. Although thankfully Roman and Dean each threw a hand out and stopped the near squishing.

I winced,

"Phew, that was close. Thanks guys."

Dean snorted,

"Fuck. Come on Mrs Ambrose, before some _other_ shit happens out here, an' you get yourself freakin' abducted by aliens, or fuckin' mole people."

I grinned at him.

"_Hmmm_. You know, I kind of love when you say that."

He blinked at me,

"Mole people?"

"Nooo," I huffed, "When you say Mrs Ambro – ,"

Reaching a hand out he covered my mouth over and then pulled me into a headlock of sorts as he stepped from the elevator out into the hallway and then waved my hand like a marionette,

"Princess, say goodnight to the Big Dog."

"G'f night Bib Bob," I mumbled into his hand before licking his fingers which I hoped would freak him out a bit. Except nope, of course it didn't. Why would it have done? My husband had once literally reattached his own nipple.

Roman chuckled,

"Heh. Right back at ya baby girl and hey congratulations you damn crazy idiots. No two people in the world I would want happier."

_Awww_.

Dean put a fist out towards him.

"Thanks uce."

Roman smiled and then bumped it back which was basically the male equivalent of _I love you_ and _I'm hungry_ and everything between. Because _newsflash_. Men were weird and especially burly wrestlers.

_Ping._

I blinked as the doors creaked a third time and as Roman began to vanish out of sight again, since his room for the evening was on the floor above, given that the hotel had been booked up pretty solidly, thanks to not only the sold out Smackdown taping, but _also_ a convention of professional lookalikes in town.

Before they closed fully he pointed a finger,

"Oh and hey try and keep it down tonight, because some of us in here need to get us some beauty sleep. So no howling and making loud baby girl."

I blinked at him,

"_Mmph_?"

Because okay, so maybe _sometimes_ I got a tad noisy but I'd never been that loud.

Right?

Dean chuckled in my ear and then kept on waving my hand like a puppet until our lovable Big Dog had completely disappeared, at which point I peeled my husband's hand from my lipstick and then huffed way too loudly,

"Hey I do not ho – oh," I blinked, because Abraham Lincoln was coming towards us, complete with the beard and the really tall hat. Even though it had a big dent in the middle. I guessed from having been stuffed into a case. He glared at me, having clearly heard the whole conversation and I blushed,

"Um, he was kidding I really don't howl. I mean, not that I'm _silent_ because that would be weird too. Oh, I mean, unless that's your thing. Which is totally cool if it is – ,"

Dean grabbed my elbow,

"Hey, whoa Lauren, take it easy okay? You don't have to tell him your whole freakin' life story. An' besides, if we're lucky then he's goin' to see a show. In which case, you know," he made a gun with his fingers then grabbed my hand beaming like a naughty little child, as one of founding fathers of our country frowned towards us.

Oops.

But on the plus side he did look cute and the smile made his actual dimples pop out.

_Dean_ I meant not Lincoln.

He winked at me,

"Come on wife. What do ya say we go an' check our room out, because you an' me got a marriage to freakin' consummate."

"Okay."

Beaming like an idiot I let him tow me along the corridor, passing by rooms which were actually named, rather than numbered like other places I had stayed at over my eleven long months on the road.

I blinked at them. Egypt. Caveman. Cowboy. Was it just me or did they sound a little weird?

Fishing the keys out Dean stopped beside a doorway, which I failed to notice since I was reading all the tags, so bumped into his back and was rubbing my nose tip when he pushed the door open to let us inside, before pulling me back and suddenly blocking it with his body.

I blinked,

"Is something wrong? Oh no. Is it Steph? Did she do something in there? Like maybe rig up a slime bucket or send us a man eating tiger or bear?" because all of those things would have so been in her playbook.

Although –

Wait a minute. How did she know where we were staying? Telekinesis? Flying monkeys? Double agents? Dean blew out a snort then swept me up against his chest so he could carry me over the threshold and –

_Ohhh_.

Got it.

I looped my arms up over his neck and then giggled like a child,

"Hello."

He grunted,

"Figured that we like, probably freakin' needed to do _the thing_."

"Yep," I nodded, "_The thing_ is important."

Even though we had technically done it before, twenty four hours earlier after the crazy Raw taping where my father and evil stepmother had tricked me into a wedding gown and then tried to force me to marry Randy Orton, live on screen in the middle of the ring. Dean had come to save me thank goodness and had even super sweetly carried me into the locker room. But that had been _before_ we were married, whereas this time it was real.

He hitched me higher,

"Ready wife?"

"Mmhmm," I nodded back, having to bite my lip down to stop from squealing and then swiping the baseball cap up off his head and putting it on mine, but backwards to be adorable. Oh and also because I was down with da kids.

My husband rolled his eyes up then pushed through the doorway and in response I leaned over and flipped on the light expecting the usual cream colored hotel decor and store bought hanging art.

Only, nope.

"Oh holy fuck – ,"

Our room for the evening was a literal castle. Or fine, maybe not but it sure _looked_ like one. With wallpaper designed like big rough chunks of stonework and with a pelmet and pennants hung over the bed. There was even a mural daubed up on the ceiling with a blonde headed princess in a pretty blue dress making heart eyes at a sword waving soldier who was trying to fend off a dragon type thing. If I squinted then the beast looked a little like Stephanie.

Huh.

Maybe Da Vinci had been round after all?

Dean chuckled,

"Fuck," but he looked strangely delighted as he spun me around in his arms like a kid, taking in the crepe paper doors to the closet which someone had given a drawbridge effect and then to the bathroom which was –

Oh.

Completely normal since there was presumably only so much basic arts and crafts could do.

He grinned,

"Guess this must be like, one of those sleazy themed places. Fuck. I always kinda wanted to stay in one of these. Like, a real skeevy deal all grimy an' dirty."

I furrowed my brow in bewilderment,

"Wait, you _have_?"

Because as far as I was concerned the damp and slightly musty odor and the stains on the carpet were not bucket list stuff and certainly not on our long awaited wedding night, for which I had pictured a place beside the sea and maybe with a rolltop bathtub in the bedroom, because that had seemed romantic.

But this?

Dean nodded,

"Are you kiddin' me? Princess, I mean will ya take a freakin' look here? This is like, as freakin' kinky as they come. Kinda makes me feel like bein' a horny fuckin' scumbag."

My ears pricked up like a terrier dog,

"It does?"

Oof.

I squeezed my legs in closer together as a flash of sudden heat bled up through my bones and started to make my fingertips all fuzzy and my cheeks and my –

_Ahem_.

My husband snorted and spun me round,

"Figure I would probably be some evil baron who freakin' kidnapped a beautiful Princess from some ball, an' took her away to his scummy lookin' castle to make her all nasty."

He was grinning at the thought, which meant that his dimples popped out. Or well, _inwards_, because yep, his dimples absolutely popped in, which I tested by running my fingertip over one, then squeaking as he pretended to bite at my nail.

Bad dog.

I giggled,

"Hmmm, nice try, but no chance mister, because you could never be the bad guy. Not to me at least. You always get me out and you always come through for me, so _that_ means that _you_ would have to play the hero knight who came and rescued me away from the bad guy. I mean, not that I _need_ rescuing, because I'm kind of badass. _Eep_ – ,"

I let out a scream as Dean suddenly dropped me earthwards, opening up his arms and letting me plop onto the bed, which based on the way that it sunk underneath me had seem some heavy use. But it was comfortable though.

He followed up by launching in over the mattress, making me let out a high pitched sounding laugh as he bench pressed up above me and blocked out the lamplight.

_Ugh_.

God he was literally the handsomest man alive. _How_ was he so handsome? Hovering inches above me on his stupid muscly forearms, with his blue eyes crinkled up from where he was biting the tip of his tongue down and with his hair still damp in places from the show, but drying all _fluffy_. He tapped my nose teasingly.

_Boop_.

"Now listen up wife."

I beamed,

"Listening."

"If I say I'm the bad guy then I'm the freakin' bad guy, an' nothin' you say or do is gonna change that, because I'm the man here an' – ,"

_Ping_.

I popped my shirt open to reveal the best lacy bra that I owned. My pretty blue one with floral swirls and a diamante. Dean peered down at the ensemble in surprise and so I sucked in a breath to make my breasts heave up and at which point he lowered his head in towards them and ran his hot little nose over the lace fronts.

"Fuck."

"Now what were you saying about being the bad guy?" I smirked, teasing my the ends of my fingers through his hair and briefly wondering what else my boobs could get me. Chocolate? Money? Ooh, _chocolate money_?

Dean shook his head,

"Bad guy shmad guy, I'll be whoever you fuckin' want here."

I giggled at him,

"_Hmm_, well I'm not sure you can help. Because you see, what I _really_ want is a musclebound wrestler. Tall and with a whole lot of messy looking hair. The kind of guy who seems all tough on the outside but is actually a really big cutie inside. Know anybody who might fit the picture?"

Dean blinked,

"I'll get Roman – ,"

He started to clamber back off and I laughed in response then hooked his collar with my finger so I could pull him back down into a long and steamy kiss. His hands slid around to haul me in closer and as I turned in towards him one slid across my butt and anchored me up with our groins sort of _smushing _and with my fingers in his hair and our tongues clashing hard. Because, I mean, I _did_ say that it was steamy and besides, it was the first time we had been alone in hours, not to mention our first husband and wife interaction, so of course it was hot. Dean and I were in love and not even wild horses could have torn us asunder –

Although, evidently, a ringing telephone could.

"Damn."

As the handset on the nightstand set up a shrill sort of wailing, Dean threw out a hand with his lips still clamped to mine and fumbled with a growl over the plain little cabinet, before hooking the thing upwards and grumbling into it, _huskily_.

"Yeah?"

"Um, Mr Ambrose? I'm sorry to bother you."

It was the woman from reception we had met five minutes before and whose eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when Dean and Roman had pitched up through the door, since most of her other clientele for the night were lookalikes and so therefore _not_ attractive recently newly wedded men.

Newly wedded. To _me_.

I snorted at that thought, then started to wiggle my ass cheeks further down the sheets and then in beneath my husband so I could push up his shirt folds and kiss across his abs.

"Uh huh, yep okay," Dean offered back over the phone, giving me a teasing and semi distracted look of warning before planting his clean hand over my face and so at which point I reached down and tweaked at his package. His hips rocked up, "_Fuck_."

Amused blue eyes snapped down and I shrugged in full innocence like I was clueless as to the problem. Back on the line the receptionist coughed,

"Mr Ambrose? Hello?"

"Crap. Yeah I'll be right there," he grunted in a mumble before dropping the phone back down and then narrowing his gaze to glare at me in _Shield mode_, which, as it turned out I had actually kind of missed.

Ooh.

I sucked my lip in and he reached down and tweaked it out again,

"_You_," he smirked, "Are a very naughty wife. Remind me to punish you or thank you or somethin' when I get back from the lobby."

I frowned at him,

"Get back?"

Blowing a groan out he climbed off the mattress which bowed beneath his body and flipped me round onto my front, where I scrabbled like a small and panicky beetle before pushing up onto my elbows with my hair in my face.

_Hey_.

"'Parently they fucked up our payment or somethin'," Dean offered as he tried to straighten out his rumbled shirt, "Need me to go down there an' run it all through again."

"But I thought you were rescuing the Princess," I huffed,

He grinned at me,

"Lauren, is this some kinky new sex term? Because if it _is_ I like it better when you call it _sexy time_ or, _doin' the deed_ or some other Wisconsin thing."

I blinked at him.

"Um, but those _aren't_ Wisconsin things. Those are just me things."

"Fuckin' figures," he snorted, planting an exaggerated kiss on my head, complete with a hammed up and noisy sounding _mwah _sound which tickled my skin with his incoming beard and then made me laugh like an actual child, "Five minutes okay baby? Because then I'm comin' back, so I can rescue the freakin' princess as many times as she'll let me."

I bit my lip down,

"It's twice and okay."

Crossing the room – oh, excuse me, the _castle_ – he stopped on the threshold then looked back towards the bed and presumably his new wife lying spread out over the covers, bra on display and with my cheeks flushed sex red.

"Fuck."

Dean slapped himself hard without warning and then gave me a closed handed Oriental style bow, before stepping from the room and clicking the door shut as I grinned like an idiot.

I was married.

Holy crap.

I beamed at the cute little Princess on the mural who I figured most probably knew exactly how I felt, based on the way she was looking at the knight dude. Her big handsome hero.

Kind of like me and Dean.

In one corner of the scene behind Stephanie – I mean, _the dragon_ – there was a brightly painted sun breaking in through the cloud, which made me smile as I blinked up towards it and then swallow down a lump.

"I wish you were here mom. Oh," I faltered, "I mean, not _here_ exactly, because that would be weird since it _is _our wedding night and we're going to, you know – um – kind of _do the deed_."

In response the bright sun seemed to wink at me a little, which I grinned at because, yep, that was totally my mom, since she had never been shy about that kind of business, what with her being an artist and all. Dean would have loved her and…

Dean.

I curled my toes up and then hummed a happy note out, because I loved him so much. It physically _hurt_ when he wasn't there with me which, okay was mushy and borderline _bleurgh_. But it was true. Dean Ambrose had been there every single time I'd needed him, which had been a lot in the previous year what with first finding then falling out with my long lost father and then maybe a few kidnappings and druggings to boot.

I covered my mouth to try and stifle a yawn back then blinked my tired eyes. Because it _had_ been a long day – I mean, becoming a _Mrs_ notwithstanding – and so no wonder I felt tired.

I turned my face into the bed and then decided to rest my eyes a little to make them all fresh for when my husband got back, so we could get down to the business of newlywed _sexy time_.

Five minutes and no longer –

Then I fell fast asleep.


	2. Rescuing The Princess

****Here it is everybody, part two and things are going to get quirky in this one, you have been warned! I hope you enjoy!****

**Wolfgirl2013, I bow to your superior powers of perception. Yep, the whole gang's here!**

**L****abinnacslove, Hellooo! Nice to have you back. Glad you've missed these two and their crazy (and it's going to get a lot more crazy yet!)**

**Skovko, Um, well, there is definitely a surprise coming, for everyone, but it's probably not what you think. God only knows why my brain made me write this one, but I had a good time doing it if nothing else!**

**xXBalorBabeXx, Yep, we all know Lauren likes finding trouble and this is no exception. She can literally find trouble anywhere...although this kind might be a little unusual!**

**Mandy, Want me to send Dean round to dirty deeds whoever was mean to you on the phone? I will. But maybe once he's sorted out Lauren, because we all know that girl keeps his hands kind of full. Glad this story came along when you needed it. I aim to please!**

**Minnie1015, Aww you know what a girl wants to hear, especially after all of the stressing I had with these two! Glad you missed them, I'm going for something a little bit different in this chapter (although not so different, because it's them after all). What can I say, I watched too many movies in the nineties... **

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**Rescuing The Princess**

When I opened my eyes again it was like the light in the room had shifted.

Sunlight – actual sunlight – was streaming through the drapes, which was weird because how long had I been out for and what day was it and why did I feel so weird? Around me the room felt bigger and colder somehow and the fake stone walls seemed suddenly real.

Not that those were my biggest concerns though, because where was my husband?

I sat up in alarm,

"Dean?"

Four solid walls were staring back at me and – hey – where had the crepe paper covered closet gone? Since in its place I could only see a large antique trunk chest and an elegant iron stand filled with candles and –

_Candles_?

Now where on earth had those things come from?

"Dean?"

Blinking up in no small amount of worry, I turned towards the bathroom battling my dress because –

Oh.

Had I mentioned I was wearing one of those too? As in a real princess gown with lots of layers and floof, in the form of an elegant pale blue overdress and cream underskirts with brocading and swirls, not to mention about a nautical mile of silver thread work, finished off with long, pearl dressed puffy sleeves.

It was a beautiful thing and made me feel like a Disney drawing. But how was I even in it? I didn't recall putting it on. Or even _buying_ the thing for that matter.

Hmmm.

"Um, Dean?" I tried hopefully again, frowning round the room, "Did – did something maybe happen overnight? I mean did we switch hotels without me knowing and – this part might sound crazy – but why am wearing a dress?"

I looked towards the bathroom, or at least where it _had_ been, since that too had gone with everything else. Including my brand new pantsuit and my _husband_.

I swallowed,

"Um, okay kind of freaking out now."

Fighting the folds of my dress – which was still beautiful but clearly not designed for the climbing up off beds – I trampled across the cold and unforgiving flagstones, which at some point had replaced the old stained carpet in the night and then flung open the door out onto the hallway to reveal a stone staircase.

Yep.

Really _really_ freaking out.

"Dean are you down there?" I called into the darkness, flinching a little as my voice echoed back. But I definitely could hear someone or some_thing_ at the bottom and so I figured it probably _had_ to be Dean, since no way would he leave me in a super weird castle.

Because he loved me too much, right?

I sucked in a breath then unhooked one of the tapering candles and picked up the hem of my impractical dress, before starting down the steps with my heart on my tongue tip. Because what if there was a fire breathing dragon at the end? Or, ooh, how about a super secret torture dungeon? Only not one of the good ones like in Fifty Shades of Grey.

_Oh god oh god_.

I nearly had a full conniption, although luckily it turned out to be neither of those, since instead the steps lead down to a doorway which I pushed open slowly at the sound of a voice and spat me out into a baronial looking throne room, with super tall windows and a banquet all prepared. Oh and also two figures stood beside the long table.

Oh crap.

It was Hunter and Steph.

Each of them was wearing a crown and crushed velvet and talking with someone perched on one of the chairs, but whoever it was had their back turned towards me, so I couldn't quite see them. But it certainly wasn't Dean. Noticing me stood there they spun in my direction and –

_Smiled_?

"Lauren," Hunter grinned throwing out his arms, "There you are sweetheart I'm glad you're awake at last. Can't have my daughter sleeping through her big day."

I blinked back at him for a second like he was speaking another language.

Because excuse me?

"Big day?"

"Of course," he chuckled back, "Don't tell me you forgot?"

"Um," I frowned, "F-forgot what exactly?"

How they had drugged me and then basically locked me up? Or how my wicked stepmother had tried to run me over? Or how about the way they had let Randy pin me down? _Or_ the way they had made Seth turn his back on us?

Because yep, I remembered _those_ things pretty well. Although apparently our beef wasn't exactly what he was getting at.

Stephanie huffed,

"Hunter please," she clicked her tongue at him, before coming round the table to put her hands on my arms, which I flinched at expecting her talons to follow and then frowning when they didn't.

Wait. Was she being _sincere_?

Reaching up she brushed a loose hand through my tresses and then scrunched her nose sweetly,

"Poor Lauren just woke up, so you can hardly expect her to remember her wedding."

I coughed in surprise,

"I-I'm sorry, my _what_?"

"Your wedding," Steph repeated like I'd misheard the wording and not the insane basic premise of it all. In the meantime though she kept stroking my hair through, which was weird but also something that my mom had liked to do and so it felt kind of –

_Nice_?

"I'm so excited for you Lauren. Your father found you the perfect man. He's strong and handsome and he has excellent prospects."

"Dean?" I blinked.

Because it had to be right? I mean after all, he was _already_ my husband, so it was hardly as if they could have picked someone else and besides, he _did_ have excellent prospects and an excellent body and an excellent face.

Plus you know, dimples.

"_Dean_?" Stephanie snorted furrowing her brows, "Sweetie, who on earth is Dean?"

"Um he's – ,"

"_Ohh_," she breathed out suddenly snapping her fingers then prodding me across the floor, closer to Hunter and the man at the table who still remained faceless, "Do you mean your father's guard? Or at least before he went off and joined the rebellion and became an enemy of the Kingdom."

"The kingdom?" I frowned, although honestly I could have spluttered _any_ word from her sentence and still been completely clueless. _Rebellion_? _Your father's guard_? Because what had that meant?

Was she talking about The Shield boys?

"But," I blinked, "I _already _married him."

"Well in that case then you'll just have to _unmarry_ him," Steph beamed back at me like the answer was simple. She dug her nails in too,

Ouch.

King Hunter had a big weathered hand out to greet me and it clamped around my wrist as we pitched up by his side, meaning that with my stepmother gripping my shoulders and him holding my sleeve I was essentially stuck and knowing it my heart started up like a drumbeat. Because when had them grabbing me ever been good?

I struggled,

"But I don't _want_ to unmarry Dean. I love him."

Steph snorted,

"Come on Lauren, this isn't about love, this is about doing what's best for your family and for the family business and besides, like I said, the King has picked you someone with excellent prospects. Lauren meet Randy, the Baron Von Orton of Smackdown."

_What_?

A cold clammy rush of chilled blood ran clean through me as the man in the chair stood up and turned round.

Because yep –

It was Randy. No two ways about it. Although he seemed to be wearing a historical style moustache, which if possible made the asshole look even more creepy and brutal and smug. _Ugh_. I hated him so much. I literally wanted to poke both his eyes out and then put them in an envelope and send them miles away, which, okay perhaps wasn't the _best_ revenge ever, but _would_ have been inconvenient so, you know, um _ha_?

Randy sneered,

"Huh. Well, hello there princess. I've gotta say it's nice to finally meet you at last. I've been waiting a long time for this day. A _long_ time."

I shook my head,

"No."

I tried to back up but faltered as Stephanie and Hunter held me tighter. Because how could this be happening for an actual second time? We had already done it. We had won.

I yelled at them,

"_No_. You can't make me. I hate you. Let _go_ of me – ,"

Randy grabbed my chin,

"I can't make you, huh? Well we'll see about that, because I _will_ be the King and you _will_ sit beside me and nobody can stop that."

"Wanna bet jackass?"

Huh?

We all spun around like the cast of a screwball comedy to find a lean figure silhouetted in the door, wearing a long and super sexy black tabard with a three headed dog motif snarling on the front and with his copper hair scruffy but no less gorgeous for it.

Dean.

My heart sang with it — briefly.

"_Guards_," Hunter bellowed in a low but panicked timbre and at once more doors burst open wide and a million Authority troops poured through them. Only weirdly they all looked exactly like Seth, or like something from The Matrix or Attack or the Clones maybe as they swept towards my husband and his glittering sword, because –

Ooh.

He had a sword.

Rude euphemisms filled my headspace, since apparently I was still just an overgrown child and I sniggered which briefly made everyone look at me. Dean, the King and Queen and all the creepy clone Seths.

Dean blinked at me,

"Jesus Christ. It's because of the sword isn't it?"

_Awww_. He knew me so well.

I bit my lip.

"Yes?"

"Princess are you seriously – ,"

But whatever else he was going to say to me was abruptly cut off by a sudden loud shout, as Queen Stephanie the Brutal screeched banshee style across the table and then pointed at my husband.

"_Kill all of them_."

All?

I felt my heart flip over in horror as the Seth army let out a nasally sneer then began to pour forward like a flood of two toned hairstyles.

I struggled like a wild thing in Randy's grip,

"_No_ – ,"

Because how had I gone from a crummy hotel room on my wedding night to _this_? I mean whatever _this_ was. Being held in a castle with my outnumbered husband and my very worst enemies?

Dean met the first Seth with a parry head on – which was frankly about the _only_ fencing term I knew for certain – and then kicked the _second_ Seth right in the balls, which didn't have a special name other than _ouchie_. He was fighting like crazy but he was losing the battle fast. Because holy _crap_ how were there so many Seth clones and all of them sneering and being assholish?

Ugh.

It would take a literal miracle to beat them or –

"_Oooooooh wah_."

I blinked.

Or okay,maybe that. Because for a second it has sounded sort of strangely like _Roman_ and –

"Yes," I crowed as he bowled through the door, followed by most of the Authority hating locker room, with everyone from Dolph Ziggler to Cody Rhodes in tow and even including what looked like The Big Show. Although he seemed to have turned into an ogre at some point. All big and green with a sizeable underbite and a couple of mismatched crooked teeth poking out. He ducked beneath the door and then knocked fifteen Seths out as Roman promptly speared through another two more and at which point the illustrious King and Queen chose to scarper.

Randy too.

"Move Princess, you're coming with me."

"_No_," I wrapped my hands around one leg of the table in a super badly thought out sort of a sprawl on the floor, which Randy countered easily by simply lifting me upright and then throwing me over his shoulder. Yep, bad plan, "Let me go."

"Damn it, stop struggling," he barked in frustration as I hammered like a rock and roll drummer on his back, but which was lessened by how restrictive the corset of the dress was. No wonder Disney Princesses needed a Prince sometimes.

"_Dean_."

As my damselesque scream echoed round the great chamber, I watched him pop up over the army of Rollins heads and then widen his eyes in a bolt of pure panic and a hiss of frustration.

Or, okay, a curse word.

"_Shit_."

Kicking a door open Randy started up a staircase with me trying hard to dig my nails into the brick and watching as Dean got smaller and smaller and then lost in the crush of flailing bodies and fists.

"Put me _down_ Randy," I yelled, punching hard at his kidneys in the hopes that maybe I could somehow rupture one, or at the very least make him pee blood for a few weeks, but because of the padded doublet he didn't seem much to mind.

God I hated his hands being on me.

_Ick_.

I shuddered,

"I said put me _down_. Put me down now, by order of the princess,"

Because after all I _did_ have royal blood, while Randy was only a lowly ass baron and so that had to count for something, right?

Randy snorted at me,

Nope.

"Oh, so you want me to put you down, is that right?"

"Yes," I hissed as he kicked open another door and then suddenly flipped me back over his shoulder so that I landed on the cold hard flagstones butt first and with a shriek of fright. Dear god he was an absolute asshole and also, _ouch_.

A gust of wind ruffled my hair and I blinked and then looked around for the first time, because were we out on the _ramparts_?

Yes.

Evidently yes we were.

Battlements stretched out on four sides all around us, looking out over a landscape of fields and trees, but broken up by each of the towering turrets set beneath a blue sky – hey – like the one back in the room.

"Now, where were we princess?"

Randy stepped in towards me and I scrambled to my feet nearly tripping on the dress, before drawing a sword out – huh, where had _that _come from – and then pointing it determinedly up in Randy's face. I meant it before when I had said I was badass. Snow White and Cinderella had nothing on me. Even though Mulan was totally braver. I mean, she _had_ saved China after all.

Randy snorted then went to brush past me like he was possibly late to catch a passing bus, which seemed unlikely since we were perched on the ramparts and besides, the public transport there probably sucked.

"Please," he sneered, "Put that down before you hurt yourself."

"How about I hurt _you_?"

I flicked the blade against his chin and he hissed and then quickly tapped his fingers to the paper cut since – ooh go me – I had actually drawn blood.

In response Randy smiled but it wasn't a nice thing, since nothing about him would _ever_ be nice and then let loose an impressed sounding chuckle.

"So this is how you want it?"

"Yep," I lowered into a sword pose, "I won't marry you Randy, so you'll have to kill me first."

He drew out his own sword which, okay, was a big one and no that was _not _a euphemism.

Yuck.

"Don't tempt me princess," he ground out darkly before ducking to one side and then slashing across. I blocked it with a grin like a natural swording wonder. Or, no like Geena Davis in that nineties pirate film, which frankly, I had always felt was underrated. It was a super good movie. I parried again, then twirled out of the way to block an incoming thrust move, before possibly getting a bit carried away as our blades clashed again and we came face to face behind them.

"So, still think I'll hurt myself?"

He smirked at me,

_Ugh_.

"I don't _think_, I _know_ you will," he offered back smugly, his vile breath wafting in over my face, "Because _princess_ you have no idea what you're playing with."

"Um, would the answer be a jackass?"

He shunted me back and then stepped on the bottom of my extra long dress hem which dumped me boob first into the battlement wall and then down onto the floor in a bundle with a two foot thick machicolation at my back. My sword skittered off and I scrambled to grab it, only to find Randy's sabre point on my throat and so I seized up bodily then glared up towards him.

God he looked smug.

"So princess," he smirked, "Would you still rather die than be the Baroness von Orton?"

"Rot in hell asshole."

He sighed,

"I'll take that as a _yes_. Shame though, we could have done a lot of things together," he drew the sword back for the final killing movement and I squeaked then clamped my eyes tight shut, because, oh god, this was it, "Goodbye princess."

CLANG.

Huh?

I blinked up in shock to find the back of a tabard and –

Were those jeans underneath?

Not that it mattered.

"Dean," I grinned, partly because he'd not been butchered by Seth clones, but _mostly_ because he had slid into the space, knocking Randy's sabre away from my body and saving me like always.

Oh, I mean when I wasn't being cool and extra badass that was.

"Thought I told you to stay away from my wife last time asshole," he growled in his lowest and sexiest tones. Or at least they were sexy to me. Super sexy. Though I doubted that Randy felt the same way.

Gross.

He snorted at me,

"_This_?" he sneered across the distance, as Dean put out a hand and helped me clamber to my feet, "This is what you're turning me down for? A dirty looking street dog?"

Dean launched across the space, knocking the sabre clean out of Orton's fingers as the sword fight promptly broke down into a brawl, which was where my husband felt most happy as he straddled my kidnapper and pummelled his jaw.

Honestly I felt like _cheerleading_ for him.

_Go Dean_.

Except suddenly I was ever so slightly distracted by something coming closer in the sky overhead. Like some sort of bird, but a whole lot bigger and with the sun flush behind so it was kind of hard to see. What was that? A stork, or an eagle or a buzzard? Or maybe even a –

Dragon.

It was a dragon.

"Um, Dean?"

"Not now Princess," he grunted in response to me as I trampled across the stones and then tapped him on the back, although I shivered at the way he grumbled out _Princess_, because god it felt good to hear it lovingly again, "I'm kinda in the middle of fuckin' killin' an asshole."

"But _Dean_," I hissed as the creature flapped in close, to reveal a forked tongue and green scales and a face like Stephanie.

_Ha_.

I _knew_ it looked like her.

Picking up my sword I ran right towards her but she swished her tail round and knocked me onto my back before digging her talons deep into my shoulders and shaking me as I flailed and tried to kick out.

"No, get _off_ me – ,"

"Princess?" Dean called from somewhere, but he sounded far away which was weird, "Princess wake up."

Dragon Steph shook me again and in response to her I launched up the best punch I feasibly could and clocked something soft and almost human flesh feeling.

"Fuck."

Huh? I blinked at the sound of the shout and suddenly the light flooding round me changed again and the sun and the ramparts and the dragon all faded. Because instead there was only a bed and me and Dean, who was cupping his nose on the mattress beside me and grumbling.

"Holy fuck."

Had I hit _him_?

Ooh crap.

"Oh god, did I get you? I'm so sorry. Let me look at it," sitting up swiftly I pulled his hands down, using the folds of his warm leather jacket and – hey where had his sexy black Shield tabard gone? I gabbled too, groggily, "I – I was trying to hit Stephanie – or well, not _Steph_, because she was more kind of a _dragon_ thing – and only because you were busy fighting Orton and besides, you were tired from all of the Seths and – ,"

"Princess, whoa," Dean buttoned my lips up and then blinked at me, "Lauren, in what the hell are you talkin' about?"

"B' webellion 'gainst King Hunter and 'Tephanie," I mumbled back at him, before having to suck in some drool since talking around pinned lips was _not _attractive.

But I frowned too though because how could he _not_ know?

"Princess," he grunted, "It was a freakin' dream baby."

"A _what_?" I squeaked as he offered back a nod. Oh and also decided to let my lips go which was slightly more helpful.

"You were shoutin' an' wavin' your arms around. I was _tryin_' to wake you up when you freakin' creamed me in the schnoz here."

I blinked at him.

A dream?

But it had all seemed so real. I mean, except for the dragon that looked like Stephanie and the fact that Randy had been sporting a moustache and the army of Seth clones and The Big Show being an ogre and the whole castle bit and –

Okay. So perhaps it _was _a dream. With the exception of King Hunter and Bitchy Queen Steph though, since _that_ was our waking reality from day to day.

Dean rubbed his nose and I winced at him,

"Oopsie."

"Hell of a way to start our weddin' night off," he smirked before snorting, "Although did anyone ever tell ya, you throw a mean right hook?"

"I had a good teacher," I shrugged in response, meaning him and knowing it he snorted and then turned on the mattress to catch me in a kiss. A sweet one at first but which got deeper pretty rapidly as his hand slipped round my back to pull me against his abs and as my fingers crept up and flattened over his torso.

Leaning against me we toppled down onto the bed and I broke the kiss to squeak a happy little note out as he resumed his earlier position on top.

My husband.

_Mmm_.

His blue eyes sparkled down at me as he dipped his head lower to nip at my jaw before rumbling a low and super husky sounding grunt loose as I teased across the hair at the back of his neck.

I was so lucky.

"So then what's the freakin' plan here?" he murmured at me, his lips grazing my ear and making me shiver right through way through my body, "Am I _rescuin' the princess_?"

I grinned,

"You already have."

* * *

**There you go, they are officially back. **

**Next week I have a brand new Lauren and Dean story coming (the one I promised you all those months ago) which I'm aiming to post up next Wednesday/Thursday, so if you're interested, I hope to see you there when normal service will resume (with no castles and no dragons, but lots of drama and being cute!)**

**Can't wait!**


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